The Bat on the Bedroom Wall
by Tin Wordsman
Summary: Captured by Harley Quinn, Batgirl faces a bizarre ordeal in the clownish criminal's 'love nest'. Rated M for sexual content in Chapter 2 (but not quite what you may expect).
1. Street Fights

**A/N: Let it be herewith understood that I do not own any Batman/DC Comics characters, concepts or other intellectual property. Just having a bit of fun here.**

**This one begins as a fairly typical adventure, but suddenly becomes a psychological thriller in Chapter 2. (Nothing _too _warped, though; the M rating is mainly to be safe.) Hope you find it surprising as well as entertaining.**

The Bat on the Bedroom Wall

Chapter 1: Street Fights

A small, slender figure in black and yellow swung out of the night on a thin but sturdy cord; her name was Barbara Gordon, but she currently wore the colors of Batgirl. _Come on, Babs, move your ass! _she told herself, landing gracefully on a warehouse rooftop. Without breaking stride, she raced across it toward the two dark-costumed men standing at the edge, her red hair streaming behind her.

"You're a minute-five late," said the Batman, in that particularly curt tone Barbara never liked hearing.

"I know," she admitted, sheepishly. "Sorry... Dad dropped by for coffee, and I had a hard time getting him to go home." One drawback of leading a double life when you were the police commissioner's daughter was that Jim Gordon was far too sharp to fall for just any flimsy excuse.

"Hey, we've all been there," grinned Nightwing as he kept an eye on the alley two stories below. "Way back when my Aunt Harriet used to come visit, it really played hell with our crimefighting schedule." He cast a sidelong glance at Batman. "You remember."

The faintest ghost of a smile flickered across the dark knight's face, and Barbara knew she was off the hook. _Thanks, Dick... _she thought, giving him a fond wink. But Nightwing had spotted their quarry: "Okay, our intel was right; there they are," he announced. "And they don't look happy." The heroes listened as two raised voices drifted up, one deep and sultry, the other comically high-pitched.

"This is the limit!" spat Poison Ivy, her coldly beautiful face flushed a more vivid green than usual. "After all I've tried to teach you about self-respect, how can you _still_ involve yourself with that creature?"

"Ah, come on, Red," whined Harley Quinn, in her broad Brooklyn accent. "I was just tweetin' Mistah J. so he wouldn't get all lonesome at Arkham. Everybody else out there is scared of him."

Ivy ground her teeth in weary exasperation. "Harley, he put you in the hospital! Are you going to wait until he kills you?" For a moment, pain cracked her icy demeanor. "Do you care about me, about _us_, at all?" she asked. "Please, Harl. Joker's a _maniac_; stay the hell away from him!"

But Harley only stared at the ground and whispered, "He's just misunderstood..."

Ivy's emerald eyes flared: "You little idiot!" she exploded. "I'm done with you! We are absolutely _over _this time, do you hear me?"

"Aww, Red; y'don't mean that..." simpered Harley, biting her lip. Didn't Ivy know by now there was no point expecting anything like sensible behavior from her?

Up above, the masked manhunters followed the drama with a curious (and slightly uncomfortable) fascination. "Can you believe this?" muttered Batgirl. "It's like 'Real Housewives of Gotham'."

"I know. Who do you like for the movie version?" added Dick, with typical dry irreverence. "I'm thinking Madonna and Britney."

"We'll make use of their quarrel," cut in Batman, crisply. "Nightwing and I will take down Ivy," he directed. "Batgirl, you handle Quinn."

"No sweat, bossman!" chirped Barbara, her blue eyes sparkling. Since first becoming Batgirl to help her father out of a jam, she had quickly grown to love the adventure and excitement it brought.

Batman shot her a narrow look. "Don't get cocky," he admonished. "She's more dangerous than you think." Batgirl nodded respectfully, but thought her mentor was micro-managing again; she'd gone up against the zany crook before and easily held her own.

"Let's wrap this up," prompted Nightwing. "I'm getting hungry. Babs, you want to go grab a bite after?"

"You're on, birdboy," Barbara agreed. One day, she knew, they would figure out exactly what sort of relationship they wanted; but for now it was enough to just enjoy each other's company. With an eager smile, she followed Batman over the roof's edge. Down they went, capes billowing out above them, with Dick descending on his glider-wings.

"Yoink! _Incoming_, Red!" squeaked Harley, as the dynamic trio dropped into their midst. Batgirl did a somersault and pounced on her, and they rolled back down the alleyway.

"Damn it, can this night get any _worse?"_ Poison Ivy snarled, as Batman and Nightwing closed in. Drawing a capsule out of her leaf-patterned glove, she dashed it to the pavement and a glob of vegetable matter burst forth, growing at a fantastic rate. Before the heroes could react, they were caught in a cluster of massive, serpentine vines doing their level best to squeeze the life out of them.

Meanwhile, Batgirl and Harley engaged in a fierce acrobatic duel, their lithe bodies a colorful, balletic blur as they traded kicks and jabs. The two were well matched in agility, but Batgirl's sheer enthusiasm gave her an edge, and Harley felt herself tiring. "Red, gimmie a hand!" she shouted.

"Sorry, Harl," answered Ivy in a flat, dismissive tone, her attention centered on the death struggles of Batman and Nightwing. "I'm through bailing you out. You're on your own."

Harley's face twisted with hurt and anger: "Oh, so it's like _that_, izzit?" With a sudden fury, she lashed out, high-kicking Batgirl backward into a stack of crates. Before Barbara could regain her footing, Harley whipped out a huge mallet and struck her viciously over the head.

As Batgirl collapsed, Harley's abrupt rage subsided, and she looked the young crimefighter up and down in a strange, appraising manner. Then, with a sly grin, she dragged her still form into the shadows.

In the clutches of the constrictor vines, Batman focused all his considerable willpower on reaching his utility belt before he and Nightwing were crushed. Straining against the tightening tendrils, he pulled out a tiny injector and jammed its needle into the thick, green coil around his waist. A powerful defoliant swiftly coursed through the entire plant, shriveling it in seconds as the crusaders tore themselves free.

Before the startled Ivy could escape, Batman was upon her, stunning the villainess with a brisk nerve blow. Nightwing had immediately dashed down the alley instead of assisting, which caused the dark knight to raise an eyebrow; then he realized that neither Barbara or Quinn was in sight. Frowning, he cuffed Ivy's hands behind her.

Nightwing returned in a minute, looking worried enough to deepen Batman's scowl. "Where's Batgirl?" he asked the former boy wonder.

"In trouble!" said Dick. "I saw Harley drag her away while we were tangling with those vines." He shook his head, grimly. "No sign of them back there; she must've had a car handy."

Batman turned on the reviving Poison Ivy and fixed her with his sternest glare. "Where did Quinn take her?" he growled. The sinister botanist stuck out her chin haughtily and said nothing, a chill whisper of a smile on her lips...


	2. A Fool for Love

Chapter 2: A Fool for Love

Consciousness returned slowly to Batgirl, along with a nasty headache. The reinforcing in her cowl had blunted some of the impact, but she'd still taken quite a whack. She made a face as Batman's warning not to underestimate Harley came back to her: _Right again, Bruce... as always. But where the hell did she pull that mallet from, anyway?_

Blinking her eyes, she focused on a bedroom done entirely in shades of pink, white and red, accented with hearts... _lots _of hearts. Even the bed featured red heart-shaped pillows. The effect was so sugary it was almost nauseating, and it had Harley Quinn written all over it. Barbara knew that among Quinn's quirks was an obsession with romance, even when it involved psychopaths like Ivy and the Joker.

However, the tacky decor was much less important to Batgirl than the fact that she was spread-eagled against a wall, with manacles locked about her wrists and ankles. Her cape, gloves, and boots had been removed and carelessly tossed in a corner, along with her utility belt, leaving her in just her sleek black bodysuit. _Okay, not much to work with... _

At least her mask was still in place; its fastenings were very difficult to open without knowing how, so her identity had probably not yet been compromised. Barbara reflexively tested the clamps that held her, but they were too snug to wriggle out of. Moving at all in this position was nearly impossible, her toes not quite reaching the floor.

_What next?_ wondered Batgirl. _Torture? _That seemed doubtful; as thoughtlessly violent as Quinn could be, outright sadism was more in the Joker's line. But what did she have on her warped little mind?

Barbara got a disturbing hint when her motley foe capered into the room in a scarlet satin teddy... and nothing else, except her jester's cap, mask and white facepaint. "_Hi_yah, Bat-chick!" she cried merrily, jumping onto the bed. "I was startin' to think I conked ya too hard, but here y'are all bright-eyed an' ready for some fun!"

_Fun? _puzzled Barbara. _What does she... Oh, no! _A cold chill spidered down her back as the picture became unnervingly clear. _Dear Lord..._

"Tell ya a secret," said Harley, stretching out on her stomach, chin propped on her hands. "I always did kinda think you were a cutie-patootie... for a good guy." She ran a hungry look over Barbara's trim figure, kicking her feet in the air. "An' I figure since Ivy's bein' such a bitch right now, I might as well give her somethin' ta _really _get steamed about."

Abruptly, Harley's grin slipped, tears welling up in her too-bright eyes. "Red's gonna be sorry she dumped me, wait 'n see!" she pouted, with an intensity that surprised Barbara. _Whoa; I knew they had a thing for each other, but it's more serious than I thought - at least on Quinn's part._

"But let's talk about us!" piped Harley, her manic enthusiasm roaring back. "In case ya been worryin', I couldn't get yer mask off; damn thing wouldn't budge." The pouty face popped out again, instantly giving way to yet another goofy grin. "Then I decided it'd be, like, kinkier if we kept our masks on... 'sides, for all I know ya might have a unibrow or somethin'_. Major _buzzkill!"

Barbara watched Harley's quicksilver emotional shifts with mounting dread; the breakup with Ivy seemed to have driven the scatterbrained jester even more crazy. _No telling what she's capable of right now - and I'm completely at her mercy. Maybe there's a slim chance I can talk her out of it._

"Harley, stop this nonsense," she said, managing a firm but calm tone. "Raping me won't solve anything. It'll just land you in a whole new world of trouble when Batman finds you - w_hen, _not if. You know that."

Quinn sat up and mimed a bored yawn. "Big deal. Yer wastin' yer breath, kiddo," she snickered. "I am a grade-A certified official _nutcase_; what're they gonna do to me 'cept toss me back in Arkham, huh?" She puffed out her chest with a peculiar sort of pride. "Mistah J. learned me that!"

_Well, that was an epic fail, _thought Barbara, blackly. _I can feel her clammy hands on me already._

"An' hey! Who's talkin' about 'rape'?" added an indignant Harley, hands on her hips. "You an' me are just gonna _play_," she insisted, hugging herself in anticipation. "Do a little harmless foolin' around, right?"

_God, on some level she really believes that, _Barbara knew. Easily the spookiest thing about Harley Quinn was the way she hid her worst misdeeds behind a curtain of childlike innocence.

"But first, we gotta unwrap that bodacious bod of yers!" smirked Harley, with a lascivious wink. Reaching into her dresser, she drew out an exaggeratedly large pair of shears. The blades gleamed with a wicked sharpness as she bounced off the bed and danced over to Batgirl, jauntily snip-snipping the air.

"Hold still now," she cautioned, grabbing a handful of spandex at Barbara's midriff. Batgirl winced inwardly as Quinn slashed the fabric from waist to neck, up through the yellow bat on her chest.

"_Whoo-wee_," whistled Harley, as Barbara's perky breasts popped into view. _"Neat _boobs, honeykins!" She gave them each a quick squeeze, much to Barbara's dismay, then continued to cut away the suit, making little noises of delight as more and more skin was exposed.

Finally, Batgirl was left in nothing but her black thong; a film of cold sweat slicked her body as she strained against her bonds, feeling mortified, furious, and more than a little scared. It wasn't that she'd never idly wondered what sex would be like with another woman - but not against her will, and with a lunatic! _There has to be a way out of this, _she insisted to herself... or was there no choice now except to somehow endure it?

"That's right, settle down," cooed Quinn, as Batgirl's struggles subsided. "Just _one_ more lil' snip ta go_." _Slowly, she stretched the thong away from Barbara's hip; the blades clamped down on the elastic band, and... "Harley, wait. Please. Would... would you kiss me first?"

"Huh?" blurted the jester, taken aback. "What're you tryin' to pull?"

"Nothing," said Barbara, her voice tired and distant. "I've just admitted to myself that this is going to happen, and I might as well find a way to... enjoy it."

Harley stepped back, intrigued but suspicious. "Wow. If ya mean that, if you'd really get into it with me, that'd be... peachy." She shook her head, animatedly. "_Nah, _this has gotta be a lousy bat-trick!"

"How can it be? Look at me, I'm helpless," sighed Barbara, head drooped in resignation. "You win. All I ask is that you let me keep some dignity."

Desire and doubt warred within Harley, the gears in her muddled mind grinding so hard it seemed smoke would pour out of her ears at any second.

"I... _respond_ a lot better if you kiss me for awhile first," Barbara continued, looking away almost bashfully. "Please, Harley; don't just take me... love me. I'll try to love you back."

Swallowing hard, Harley dropped the shears, her big eyes shining with hope: "You _promise?"_

"I promise," whispered Barbara, moistening her lips. "Sure wish I could touch you," she purred, her fingers flexing restlessly. "I'd show you how much I mean it."

"Oboy. I, uh, prob'ly shouldn't cut ya loose, not yet," dithered Harley. "Hey, but we can do _this_..."

She stood on tiptoes, pressing her body against Barbara's, and reached up to clasp hands with her, interlacing fingers. Their lips brushed, came together... and Batgirl's left hand suddenly clenched, trapping Harley in a viselike grip.

"Ow!" squawked Quinn. "Leggo; you're _hurtin'_ me!"

"No damn kidding," rasped Barbara, harshly. "Unlock these clamps. Now."

Harley jammed her knee into Barbara's groin, making her gasp with pain; but instead of letting go of Harley's fingers, she twisted sharply... and heard something snap. Quinn squealed in agony, her knees buckling, but Batgirl was relentless. "That's _one_ finger, Harley," she hissed through clenched teeth. "Try that again and I'll break the other four, I swear to God!"

"Okayokayokay!" Harley pulled a key from inside her cap and fumblingly opened the shackles. Freed, Batgirl dropped to the floor, pulling her foe down with her. "Thanks," she muttered, finally releasing Harley's tortured fingers; then she punched her in the face as hard as she could.

Harley slumped over senseless as Barbara rose shakily to her feet, working her stiff muscles. She tottered over to the bed and sprawled across it, exhausted. _Geez, that was so weird, _she thought. Playing on Harley's pathological craving for affection had been a desperate, even callous, gambit; but it had drawn her close enough for Barbara to use an unshakeable ninja hold Batman once taught her. Up until the last second, she hadn't been sure if her plan would work at all. _I nearly peed myself..._

Presently, a groan from the floor signaled that Harley was beginning to stir. Barbara shook off her fatigue and stood up, her mouth set in a grim line; hauling the beaten villainess to her feet, she chained Quinn to the wall where she herself had so recently hung.

Harley was a mess: a broken index finger, blood seeping from her nose, tears carving trails through her white makeup. "Ya said ya liked me - but ya lied!" she bleated, raking Barbara with a stricken, betrayed glare. "You're _mean! _Mean, an', an'... _cruel!" _

Anger bubbled up inside Batgirl like hot lava. _Don't you dare, _she thought. _Don't you __dare__ play the victim after what you did to me, what you were __going__ to do! _She swung her hand back... and then stopped at the sight of Harley cringing helplessly before her rage. _Oh, my God, what am I doing?_

Barbara turned away and sat back down on the bed. "Shut up, Harley," she murmured, wiping her eyes. "Just... shut up."

The next second, Batman and Nightwing smashed through a window and into the room. "Jesus," blurted Dick, startled at Batgirl's bedraggled, near-naked state; then he noticed Harley pinned to the wall, in far worse condition._ "Jesus..." _he said again, shaking his head.

"Hi, guys," greeted Barbara, with a weak wave, suddenly shivering at the inrush of night air. Batman swiftly unfastened his cape and draped it around her. "Are you all right?" he growled, in a softer tone than usual.

"Yeah. Just cold," replied Barbara, quietly. "It's not as bad as it looks. Some _real_ strange stuff went down... but I'm okay."

"Do you need medical attention?" pressed Batman, thinking she seemed a bit shocky.

"No, but Harley does... a lot of it." Batgirl regarded her former captor, still sniveling pathetically. Her anger had drained away, and now she just felt vaguely sickened.

"You shouldn't be alone tonight," advised Batman. "We'll take you back to the cave."

"That sounds good," sighed Barbara. There was a room at Wayne Manor reserved for her occasional use, and she could hardly wait to dive into its big, soft bed. "It didn't take you very long to find me," she remarked.

"You can thank Ivy for that," explained Nightwing. "She gave up Harley pretty quick; I think she's seriously pissed at her this time."

_"Reddd..." _moaned Harley, breaking into fresh sobs. She offered no resistance as Batman took her down from the wall and cuffed her.

NIghtwing gathered up Barbara's boots and other accessories, then eased her into the next room for a moment of privacy. "_Are _you okay, Babs?" he asked.

"Truthfully? Not so much," she admitted, shivering again. "But I will be."

"I'll sleep over at the mansion, too," said Dick, putting his arms around her and stroking her hair. "I don't think Alfred will mind turning down one more set of covers."

"He won't need to," whispered Barbara, snuggling into his chest. "Be with me tonight, Dick. Make me feel warm again." She had gone to some dark places in the past hour... and wasn't sure she liked all that she found.

"Sure, Babs," said Nightwing, and they shared a long kiss. As friends or lovers, they would always care deeply for each other. Behind them, they heard Batman clear his throat. "You two can take the car," he said. "I'll finish up here and follow later."

Barbara pulled on her boots, and she and Dick headed for the door; but before they left, the dark knight had a final comment: "Batgirl?" he called to her. "Good work."

And Barbara brightened, flashing a weary, but genuine, smile: "_Thanks, _boss," she said, softly. "I needed that."

End

**A/N: My favorite take on Batgirl has to be this slightly younger version, as developed by Bruce Timm & Paul Dini. They managed to transcend the character's campy Sixties roots, making her an extremely likeable and plucky heroine, and I hope I've done her justice. (Harley, too - she may be a loon, but she's a **_**complex **_**loon.) **

**Please review, and thanks for reading!**


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